


Can't You Tell I'm Stalling?

by ajay_lotte



Series: The Yellow Car Initiative [19]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Agent Murdock, Attempt at Humor, Childishness, Gen, Human Disaster Clint Barton, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, Matt Murdock is a little shit, Mission Fic, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Nick Fury is Not Amused, Phone Calls & Telephones, Pranks and Practical Jokes, SHIELD, Sokovia (Marvel), Spies & Secret Agents, Super Soldier Serum (Marvel), Voice Acting, yellow car game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29339163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajay_lotte/pseuds/ajay_lotte
Summary: In which three idiot SHIELD agents have a mission in Sokovia, spend their afternoon prank calling Tony Stark, and by doing so, annoy the fuck out of Nick Fury.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Matt Murdock & Natasha Romanov, Matt Murdock/Natasha Romanov, Nick Fury & Matt Murdock, Past:
Series: The Yellow Car Initiative [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883668
Comments: 10
Kudos: 94





	Can't You Tell I'm Stalling?

**Author's Note:**

> Woah another update so soon, damn  
> Marvel owns all of these characters and stuff, this is just a fanfic for my own amusement because I suck, I'm bored, and thought it would be fun to play with Matt's super sense of self/voice control  
> Warnings: swearing, phantom pain  
> Lowkey kinda loved writing this one, happy reading- Lotte :)

“Hawkeye, Black Widow, and Daredevil, off on an undercover mission in Sokovia.” Clint’s singing as he lines up his arrow with an old building too far away for an average bow to hit from the roof that they’re on top of. “Getting wet because it’s raining, and everyone’s grumpy because it’s cold… cold… cooooold.”

“I told you to bring a coat.” Nat says, cutting off the musical rendition, and Red snorts. Clint’s about to let his bow fire.

“Wait; Clint,” he says, listening to the people in the building. Somebody has just mentioned the weather, meaning they’ve likely looked out of the window, meaning Clint should not fire yet in case the sudden movement attracts attention. He listens more. ‘There are more important things to worry about than the weather, Sylvia!’ an old man’s voice yells, ‘tell me what’s wrong with these results’.

Red loves the rain. It hits everything and significantly sharpens his understanding of the word around him- that being said, he knows it’s not great for sensory overload. “Ok, now.” He says, and Clint releases his bow, the rope latched onto it sailing through the air, vibrating against the rain, until it latches onto the building. Clint ties they’re end to a chimney, checking the knot’s strength.

“We’re good to g- yellow car.”

Nat goes first, holding onto both sides of her gun to slide down the rope as a zip wire. Clint follows with his bow, and Red last with his billy… cane. This is his cane. And not the one Melvin made either which is an all in one weapon. He’s halfway down the wire, and honing in his senses on the weapons he has on him, and it isn’t there. He has one of Elektra’s sais in his boot, but no billy clubs. Fortunately, Clint and Nat are busy climbing up to the roof as he jumps from the wire. He tucks his cane into his pocket and zips it up, trying to remember what it’s doing there in the first place.

“Double D,” Nat says, “how many guards?”

He brings himself back to the mission and climbs the final ‘step’ onto the ceiling. He cocks his head, focussing, and sighs. “More than there were an hour ago… yellow car. Whatever they’ve got planned is happening fast.”

“How many?” She doesn’t take the bait.

“Give me a second; can’t you tell I’m stalling?” Clint snorts and folds his bow, attaching it to his belt. “Ok, seven on the first floor, twelve on the second, guarding Sylvia and an old man who I assume is the head of this operation, four on the third, and nine in the attic.”

“Which is where we were hoping to get in,” Nat says.

“Who’s Sylvia?” Nat just narrows her eyes at Clint: he should have read the case file properly. “Ok, sorry, I’ll read up on her later. Promise. Ooh! Yellow car. So, we change our strategy and enter through the third floor.”

“We could miss out the attic completely,” Nat says.

“But how can we get in on the third? There’re no balconies or anything. Only windows.”

“They’re locked from the inside, too,” Red says.

“We can quietly break the glass, that’s not an issue,” Nat says, “the issue is getting to it.”

“I can do that,” he says, “but I don’t understand. We assume the goons on first floor are guarding the entrance, and it would make sense that those in the attic are doing the same thing… as it’s another obvious entry point.”

“But why are there more in the attic?” Nat finishes his thought. “I assume the attic’s smaller than the first floor as well. Can you tell how they’re operating in the attic?” Red nods and takes a moment to map out their movements. Only five of them are on alert. “Yellow car.” Two of them are… aren’t guards. They’re writing stuff, working. It smells of chemicals… not any that would be used in a bomb, more like those from the super serum. But they’re not quite the right ones.

Phantom pain flashes across his eyes and he grips them, swallowing down a scream. “Double D?” Clint asks. He ignores the pain and goes back to the scientists. They’re experimenting, he guesses, trying to recreate the serum. “Red? You good?”

“Yeah.” He says. Maybe bringing his cane along wasn’t such a bad idea after all. No- he doesn’t need it. He stretches his senses, using his pain as a focus point, and brings his attention to the other two. They’re guards too, but of the scientists. Keeping them there: they’re being forced to work for them.

Typical bad guy shit.

“Two hostages in the attic.”

“Shit,” Nat curses, “ok, they innocent?”

“Scientists- they’re held against their will. We bring them back to SHIELD for questioning. Innocent or not, I’m not sure.” Red can feel Nat evaluating him, trying to guess what his powers actually are, before she clicks her fingers and gives him a curt nod.

“I have a plan,” Nat says, “I’ll cut out the power from outside. You can still see in the dark, right?”

“Better than ever.” Clint snorts at that.

“They’ll all be on high alert then, so Clint will go in, arrows blazing, on the first floor. You take them out, no killing unless necessary, tie them all up. Daredevil, you’ll use the attack on the first to sneak in on the third and take out those four guards unnoticed. You’re a man of stealth. Then, tell me over the comms when to go into the attic and we’ll take them out together. By then, Clint should be done.”

“This shouldn’t take too long,” Clint says, “optimistically, anyways. But at that point, the big bad boss will be suspicious and radio.”

“They should all be connected,” Daredevil says, “so it won’t matter if I pretend to be from downstairs. I’m pretty good at impressions.”

“We’ll have to take your word for it,” Nat says, “but I assume everyone is speaking in Sokovian.”

“Wanda’s been teaching me.”

“Oh?”

“And knowing Russian helps.”

“You know Russian?” Red nods with a smirk. “I’m impressed Daredevil, you’re not just some street fighter scrambling for a living.”

“On the contrary, that’s exactly what I do.” And with that, Clint, and Nat parkour down the building. Clint waits out of sight for Nat to take out the power- Red hears her mutter ‘yellow car’ under her breath as he slides down the drain and digs his nails into the small cracks of the wall. He focuses on his balance until he’s ducked just below the third story window.

“Go.” Nat says. There’s a series of Sokovian ‘what the hell’s from the inside of the building, and Daredevil tunes his senses into the window, silently cutting it away with the sai. With his gloved hand he gently pushes the glass out of place, and leans in through the room, resting it on the floor. He notices Nat trying to find a way to climb the building again before moving inside with a silent forward roll. The four guards are on high alert, but they’re struggling to make out anything in the dark. Double D moves behind each one when he can tell it’s safe, slipping them into unconsciousness by using their pressure points.

He turns on his comm. “Black Widow, taken out floor three, moving up to attic.”

“Not yet, I’m not on the roof.”

“Ok.” Red says and picks up a radio. He considers this. He could radio upstairs and ask for back up down here, but that would cause alert from downstairs as well. But on the second floor, the old man is occupied with yelling about how they could afford to let the power account. Turns out he doesn’t need to use the radio because Nat reaches the roof before he finishes weighing his options.

“We go in now.” Daredevil takes the stairs four at a time and pushes on the door. Locked.

“The door’s locked.” He says.

“Well, get it open quietly.” Daredevil listens to Clint- he’s still fighting downstairs, yelling yellow car every time he glances out of the window, not noticing it’s the same parked car. Red smirks at that but returns to the task. Guns are firing. He’s got time. He picks the lock with ease and pushes the door open when he assumes nobody’s looking. Nobody’s heart spikes so he takes it they don’t open. He notices Nat climbing in through a window she just opened. One of the guards is headed back towards the door. He notices it open but the Devil slides into the room and slips him under quickly, laying him on the floor. He shuts the door.

“Like a ninja,” Nat whispers, and Red smirks. She jumps down from the high window, but she ends up making more noise than expected. But with everyone’s attention in that direction, it’s easy for Daredevil to sweep in with pressure points and hits to the head with his cane, taking out the ones Nat doesn’t. “That was pretty hot,” she says to Red.

“Then I hope you’ll like this,” he whispers into her ear causing goosebumps to rise on her arms. As predicted, the radio goes off. He picks it up but doesn’t need to use it to hear what’s being said downstairs.

“Status on first floor.”

“Clear.” He says in Sokovian, his accent heavily weighted to mimics one of the guards he heard talking on the first floor earlier. It has the wanted affect on Nat; her heart ticks, and she lets out a short, unnecessary breath. He pays attention to Clint. He’s dragging all seven unconscious guards out of sight. “There was an intrusion but… we dealt with it. The power will be back on shortly.”

“Brilliant. And the third and fourth?”

He picks up another radio. “All clear.” He changes his voice to match another person.

“Clear up here, too.” He changes radio again.

“Good.” The line gets disconnected, and Daredevil goes over to Nat, and says in English, but still with a Sokovian accent, “why don’t we go and find where the party’s really at?”

“You guys are still on comms!” Clint says suddenly. “If you kiss, you’re buying me new hearing aids. Oh hey, that was the same yellow car!” Nat laughs and gestures to the scientists. The Devil stalks over to the shaking men and knocks them both unconscious with his cane, pockets it, and throws one each over his shoulder.

“They’re not your billy clubs,” Nat says, “what is it? Doesn’t look like any weapon I’ve used before.”

“It’s… a prototype.” He growls, and Nat follows him silently down the stairs. “Hawkeye, are you in position?”

“No. What’s the plan here?”

“Twelve guards. Four each.” Nat says. “I’ll take care of the laptops.” Thank krutack, Red thinks.

“Clint, you take Sylvia, I’ll take the old man.” He says, and with a rough plan in place, they don’t bother with the silence as they fall into position on the second floor. Daredevil drops the scientists by the wall, and goes straight into action, fighting against the guards. He finishes first and leaps across the room to both the man and Sylvia. He takes out his cane. Wrong pocket. He takes out his sai, and holds it against the old man’s neck, pinning him against the wall.

“What’s the plan here, Sylvia?” He growls in Sokovian into the man’s face, and his granddaughter starts shaking next to him. Clint comes over and puts her into handcuffs as Nat starts working her way through the computer contents.

“There’s no logical order to these test subjects,” Nat says, in English, “no way of identifying them, or figuring out what the tests are. Just the results.”

“You’re cross exanimating results,” he returns to the interrogation, “you’re trying to recreate super serum. Why?”

“I know nothing about super serum.” The old man replies- which is true but not helpful, for either this interrogation or the old man’s apparent line of work- and he spits in Daredevil’s face. It smells of blood, slightly. He has gum cancer, Daredevil realises, but that’s probably not enough of a motif to create the serum for himself.

“Who are you working for?”

“No one.”

“Who do you owe?” Right there, his heart ticks. “You’re scared,” he leans closer to the man, growling into his face, baring his teeth, “you owe someone a dept. Who?” The man keeps his lips closed. “Who?” He raises his voice, falling into English, and throwing a punch in the man’s face.

“Popa!” The girl cries out, but then he notices something. Downstairs. There’s a basement, there’s a room locked, lined with metal. There’s a lot of electricity in there, the laptops are still up and running.

“It’s lucky,” he growls, “that none of your laptops are connected to the power supplies.” He takes a pair of handcuffs from Clint and puts them on the man, letting Nat take care of him as he grabs the scientists. “What’s in the basement?” The old man doesn’t answer, but that doesn’t matter yet as the three agents make their way downstairs to the bottom floor.

“It’s voice activated,” Clint says.

“Speak into it.” Nat presses the gun against his head.

“You have no intention of killing,” he replies, in English. “You need me.”

“Maybe so,” Red doesn’t bother with the Sokovian anymore now that he knows the man knows English, “but the person you work for might do if they were to find out you were unable to complete your job.”

“We can offer you protection,” Nat says, “if we get what we need.” He spits in her face. Clint looks at the man, and decides he’s not going to give. He steps over to the granddaughter.

“Where’s the password book?” He asks her, in Sokovian. “Your Popa’s about to tell you not to tell me.” He knocks the man out. “Tell me.” She leads Clint out of the room to get the password book. One of the scientists is coming back around so Red wordlessly puts him back to sleep.

“You have the book but not his voice,” Clint says, but Red just rolls his eyes. He flips through the book. “I can’t read this. It’s all in Sokovian.” Clint’s reluctant to pass the book to Red, but luckily, he doesn’t have to as the granddaughter snatches the book back from him, hands still cuffed, and flips through the pages. She reads out the passcode. Daredevil repeats it in a voice identical to the man’s.

Nat turns to face him. “Neat trick.”

“Thank you.” They go into the basement, and Nat transfers all the information to her flash drive. “We can sort through this back in New York. Let’s call in the team to get this cleared up, there’s nothing else here.” So they do, greeting Coulson and SHIELD in all of their black cars on the way out of the building.

Clint groans. “I’m starving.”

“We passed an Italian restaurant on the way here.” Nat says, so the trio head into the restaurant, fully armed and still in their super suits. Clint takes the initiative in ordering a collection of pizzas, pasta and doughballs. Nat, smartly, adds a classical Italian wine to the list. “So, you’re good at voices. You do impressions?” She asks conversationally as they wait for their meal.

“Many.” He growls.

“Let’s hear some.” Clint has a smug smile on his face.

“Ok, let’s see.” Red tops it.

“Can you do Coulson?” Nat asks.

“Morning agent Romanoff,” he says, switching flawlessly into Coulson’s voice, “hope you’re well-rested.” He switches to Nat’s voice. “I take it you have another mission installed for me.” He smirks, and changes to Clint. “Another mission?! Can I come? I’ve finished all my paperwork, I swear!”

“Holy shit, you’re good,” Clint says, then he grins, “what about Fury?” He asks in almost a whisper.

“Agent Barton,” he says, and cocks his head to mirror Fury raising his eyebrow, “I told you to have that paperwork on my desk my Monday. It’s now Wednesday. And get that dastard dog out of here.” Nat bursts out laughing, and the other two fall into laughter with her.

“Hey, hey,” Nat says, as the waiter pours their drinks, “how would you feel about messing with Stark and Fury?”

Red feels pretty good about it.

In New York, Tony’s working on a new monitor for Fury since his last one broke. Which happened to coincide with a visit from the Devil. Tony’s been told it was solely Daredevil’s fault, and though he’s learnt not to question Fury, he can’t help but think the agent was lying. So instead, he just gets the job done. His phone rings. “Hello?” He asks, pencil falling out of his mouth as he talks.

“Tony Stark,”

“Director Fury, hey,” he says, soldering some wires together, “I’m just working on that new monitor for you. Should be…”

“Forget the monitor.” He says. “I’ve been called to Sokovia.”

“Are the three musketeers ok?”

“That information is classified,” he says, and Tony can’t decipher what the angry voice means… like usual. “I need a jet ready for me in T-10 minutes. Can I count on you?”

“Ten min…”

“Can I count on you?!”

“Yep!” Tony squeaks, and Fury hangs up the phone. What Tony doesn’t realise, is that Nat is on the phone to FRIDAY, and that the ‘three musketeers’ are perfectly fine and laughing at the whole situation. They don’t have to wait long until Tony’s phone rings again. He’s busy emailing Happy to get the jet ready. “Hello?”

“Director Fury, your jet will be here soon, I…”

“My jet?” He asks, and sighs, . “Don’t worry about a jet, just get this monitor up and running. I need to be able to encrypt these documents before I can go anywhere.” Fury hangs up, Clint, Nat, and Red laugh in Sokovia, and Tony leaves Happy on Red to get back to work on the monitor. Maybe he needs to encrypt data to get to Nat or something quicker than he can get there.

In Sokovia, Clint says with a mouthful of doughballs, “ok, ok, give it a minute before we call back.”

“You know if Stark checks caller ID, this’ll all be over.” Red says, leaning across the table and stealing some of the pasta Nat’s eating.

“The day Stark checks the caller ID pigs will fly.”

“Didn’t Sam and Bucky literally go on a mission to investigate flying pigs in Germany?” Clint asks. Nat steals the slice of pizza he’s reaching for just to spite him. “Hey!”

“Ok, it’s probably been enough time now.” Nat says, puts headphones into her phone for her and Clint to listen through FRIDAY to the conversation. Red dials Stark’s number again.

“Director Fury,” Stark begins, but Daredevil cuts him off with a smirk on his face.

“Stark, does the jet have a monitor?” He asks, not waiting for the rest of the greeting.

“What?”

“I thought you were a genius Stark, I need these files sorted asap, I do not have time for this.”

“Uh, yeah… yes. I can get Happy to fly over with a jet from Upstate, a fancy one. Then you can encrypt everything and get them to Nat safely. I’ll give him a ring now.”

“I don’t want this going on your file, Stark.” Red hangs up. They listen through FRIDAY and Tony actually calls Happy. They burst out laughing. Clint goes to double dip his doughball, but Matt slaps his hand out the way before he can. Nat shakes her head at the pair, and they listen to Tony’s phone call. Disappointingly, Agent Fury doesn’t ring again for another twenty minutes. When he does, the three are chewing their food as quietly as possible and stifling their laughs.

“Stark.” Fury states abruptly. “Where is my monitor and why is Mr Hogan here insisting that we set off immediately in one of your private jets?”

“You… I… what?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Clint snorts. He’s heard that line from Fury a few times himself.

“You wanted the jet.”

“Why would I want a jet?”

“To go to Sokovia?”

“Mr Stark, does this need to go on your record?”

“No! No, Agent Fury, you said you could encrypt the files on the jet on your way to Sokovia. You said it was classified.”

“I said no such thing.” There’s a long pause of silence between the two, one filled with boundless laughter in the Italian restaurant.

Tony scratches the back of his head. “So you don’t need the jet?”

“No, of course I don’t need the jet!” Tony actually checks his phone.

He groans. “I’ve been getting calls from you from two separate numbers.”

Nick Fury sighs at the billionaire's idiocy. “Can you trace it?”

“Of course I can trace it.” Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Daredevil wait patiently as the genius traces the phone. “I’m being called from an out of date mobile from a restaurant in Sokovia.”

“Daredevil.” Fury growls. “Give me his number.” Stark does, and the director of SHIELD hangs up straight after. Red’s phone rings a moment later. The devil smirks at Clint and Nat, and the two shake their heads but submit to the inevitable. He answers the call.

“Nick,” he growls into the line.

“Daredevil. I don’t know what this sorcery is, but I politely request that you stop.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I will see to the matter personally. I have a very big gun.”

“I’m sure you do,” he growls, adding a suggestive tone to his voice.

“I also have a lot of holy water and rosary beads aren’t out of the question. I can monitor your jet, Daredevil. You may be the devil, but you’re certainly not invincible by any standard.”

Clint and Nat are busy choking on their silent laughter. Red smirks, and with a growl he calls: “yellow car” and hangs up the phone on the one and only Director Nick Fury.

Clint gasps: "you did not!"


End file.
